


Stranded

by coneygoil



Category: Hamish MacBeth - Fandom, Once Upon A Time - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coneygoil/pseuds/coneygoil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle wanted adventure, but being stranded in the middle of the Scottish Highlands with a flat tire was not what she had in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> midstorm asked you: Belle is traveling around after Rumple dies, and her car breaks down in the middle of Lochdubh and she meets Hamish.

She wanted adventure, but being stranded in the middle of the Scottish Highlands with a flat tire was not what Belle had in mind. She and Rum always talked about visiting his false homeland. The pictures they had googled on the computer portrayed Scotland as this amazingly beautiful, green land with ancient castles hundreds of years old and peeking mountains that were even older.

Now that Belle was here seeing it with her own eyes, the pictures did not do this country justice. The more beauty she saw, the more it pained her that Rum was not here with her. He was never one for really enjoying the scenery, but she'd gotten him to stop and really see the things around him. He would have enjoyed the rolling hills and peaceful wilderness.

Unfortunately with being out in the middle of nowhere, her cell phone was utterly useless. So much for technology, Belle mused ruefully as she checked for a signal again. She threw the useless piece of mechanics on the driver's seat and stood, deciding that walking the road in search of civilization was her best option.

She was just about to head off in the direction she'd been headed when she spotted a truck traveling along the winding road towards her. Belle sighed in relief. Maybe the locals would be kind enough to give her a ride.

A few minutes later the truck came to a stop beside her rental car, the word "Police" written on the side. Belle stood straighter as the police officer exited the truck, strolling casually to her.

"Good day, miss" the officer greeted, looking straight at her and Belle froze. He resembled Rum. This man who lived in the country where Rum's false memories offered where he had been born looked eerily like her late husband. Rum had wondered if there were people of this world that looked like the townspeople of Storybrooke. There was always a possibly of a doppleganger, and Belle swallowed the lump in her throat at that conclusion. "Wha' seems to be the problem?"

She hoped the man hadn't noticed her initial shock that she hurriedly covered with a sheepish smile. "Flat tire." She pointed over the hood at the driver's side. "Apparently someone forgot to include a spare at the rental company."

The officer nodded. "Well tha', nothing we can do here. I'll drive ye into town and call for a tow."

"Thank you" Belle said grateful, smiling brightly and the officer returned her smile. "Let me get some of my things." She rummaged for her purse and duffle bag in the backseat. She blushed as the officer took the duffle from her, placing it in the back of his truck.

After they were both settled in their seats, Belle turned to him and offered her hand. "I'm Belle."

"Hamish" the officer replied, shaking her hand and Belle couldn't help but stare at him. Truly, he had the same eyes and nose and jawline of her husband, but this man was younger, with far shorter and lighter hair, and not weathered yet by unimaginable hardship. There was a completely different aura about him, she could tell with just the few minutes he'd been in her presence. This man was nothing like her husband, and the more she looked at him, the less uncanny it felt.

"Wha' brings ye ti this part o' the world, Miss Belle?" Hamish asked, bringing Belle out of her thoughts, and he continued with a bit of uncertainty. "Ye sound…Australian?"

"Um-" Belle bit her lip, sorting through the files of her false memories for something about her scripted past. "I am, but I have not lived there for a very long time. I actually consider myself from Maine in the United States."

"Really?" Hamish pulled a face. "Tha' is a strange place for an Australian ti settle. Wha' made ye go there?"

Belle took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, before answering. Everyone had taken a sworn oath to never let it be known where the citizens of Storybrooke were really from. Besides, no one would believe them. "My father's job. He moved us there when I was young. It became my home."

"Why are ye here in Scotland?" he asked, curiously then frowned with a sigh. "Hope ye don't mind me prying, just trying ti make conversation."

"Oh no" Belle said immediately, chuckling under her breath. "I don't mind at all. Scotland is where my husband was from. We always talked about coming here, but it never happened while he was alive." She spoke the last words slowly, sadly.

Hamish glanced at her, offering a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry aout yer husband. Where was he from?"

"Glasgow" was the false memory Rum had told her. "I saw the city already, but I'm more excited about traveling around the countryside."

They talked the rest of the drive about what Belle had seen so far on her adventure and what her next destinations were. Hamish knew or had visited some of the places she mentioned and gave brief accounts of his experience. By the time they arrived in Lochdubh, Belle had nearly forgotten she was talking to a man that resembled her husband. Hamish was far from the rough, troubled interior of Rum.

Hamish suggested a drink at the pub where they could call for a tow. He insisted on opening the door for her when they parked. Belle found herself feeling a bit of a flutter in her stomach as she waited for him to come around the front of the truck. It'd been a long time since she'd experienced such chevalier. With a cute little smile and bow of his head, Hamish let her out and Belle's cheeks redden.

All eyes fell on them as they entered the pub. Lochdubh was a small town, and Belle figured it was much like Storybrooke when it came to everyone knowing each other. Newcomers probably stuck out like sore thumbs. Everyone greeted Hamish warmly, and after he had introduced her, they greeted Belle just as warmly in return. Hamish called for a tow truck, informing them how far Belle's car was from the town.

They couldn't stay at the pub the rest of the day. Hamish needed to make his rounds through the town to make sure all the townspeople were behaving themselves. He'd told her some stories as they drank a mug, and Belle laughed at the slightly illegal but harmless schemes of the citizens of Lochdubh.

Hamish didn't want to abandon her, so he invited her to join him on his walking rounds. Belle was thankful she wore her sneakers, which were way more practical to drive in than her beloved heels. As they walked, he told her facts about the town and its history. By the time Belle's car arrived in town, evening had set and Belle knew she would be taking up residence there for the night, which did not upset her in the least.

Hamish surprised her, or maybe it shouldn't have surprised her at all, when he invited her to make use of the spare bedroom at the police station. Why a police station had bedrooms was beyond her, but Belle accepted gratefully, happy to have made a friend in this far away land.

"Will this do, Miss Belle?" Hamish asked as he showed her to the spare bedroom, hope on his face for her approval. It was simple with plain white walls, a worn wooden nightstand and dresser being the only furniture, and a full sized bed. "The sheets are clean, I mi' add."

"This will do just fine, Hamish" Belle replied, smiling at him as she touched his shoulder. Hamish beamed back at her, holding her gaze for a moment before depositing her duffle on the bed. He left her to settle in, and Belle could feel the gratification radiating from him as he closed the door.

Belle sat down slowly, the mattress sinking under her weight. Taking a deep breath, she pondered over the day's events. Hamish was absolutely adorable and a real gentleman at that. She couldn't help but like him, and Belle wasn't sure whether to be happy or scared out of her wits with that revelation.


	2. Chapter 2

Thirty-five minutes.

Isabel knew she didn't have any time to waste on her lunch break. The first day, a week after misunderstandings and kisses were settled, she wanted to make the best of her short break with Mr. Gold. On their second date, Isabel expressed taking lunch with him and the idea had quirked his interest. She never left the diner on her break unless she had an errand to attend to, but now she'd take every advantage of it as possible.

She suggested Mr. Gold coming to the diner, but quickly recanted, feeling that they'd never have privacy there even if they did take lunch outside where it was usually vacant. Ruby loved other people's business, and Isabel knew her best friend would try to sneak peeks every chance she got.

Isabel walked briskly along the sidewalk toward Mr. Gold's shop, an old wicker basket hanging from her arm laden with egg salad sandwiches wrapped neatly in clear plastic wrap and a jar of dill pickles. She found pickles were one of Mr. Gold's favorite foods one day when she stopped by the shop unannounced. She sneaked in the back entrance to surprise him, only to catch him in mid-chop as he sat at his desk glancing over finances.

Even now that they were more than waitress and customer, Gold still left her a generous tip every morning after his meager breakfast. Isabel remarked that she hoped he wasn't paying her to date him. Gold replied smoothly that he was definitely getting his money's worth.

He greeted her as soon as the bell clanged above the shop's door, sauntering from behind the counter. Isabel cherished the smile he only wore for her. She was quickly learning the different between Mr. Gold, take-no-prisoners pawnbroker, and her attentive, soft-spoken Anthony. They hadn't truly traversed the town together yet, but Isabel knew when they did, tongues would be wagging.

She also feared the firestorm that would follow after her father knew. He wouldn't understand, and would probably assume Gold was intimidating her into a relationship, taking advantage of his poor little girl. Moe French wasn't a very courageous man, but Isabel knew he'd do anything to keep her safe, especially from the likes of an old dragon who hulled up enough treasure to last a lifetime.

Mr. Gold loved the sandwiches, much to Isabel's delight, and chuckled at the pickles as she presented the jar to him. They would take lunch together Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, they agreed. Isabel made something different for each day, though the meals were simple and mostly contrived of various kinds of sandwiches.

They both perched on his desk in Gold's cluttered office, side by side chatting while they ate. Five minutes till her break was over, Isabel would gather her basket and Gold would kiss her goodbye. How she wished they could just linger there, let their lips explore one another. But that intimacy was saved for their dates, which were always at his home. Isabel didn't mind. She loved exploring his house, always finding something new to catch her eye in Gold's mass collection.

"I have something for you" Gold said one Saturday night as they drank tea together at his kitchen table.

"As if you haven't given me enough in these past few weeks!" Isabel exclaimed, laughing. "You'll not cease to spoil me, even with my protests."

"Oh no, my dear," Gold flashed a devious smirk her way. "I'll never stop spoiling you with gifts no matter how hard you try to stop me."

Besides the tips he still left for her every morning, Gold had given her many gifts so far. Most were practical like an oversized navy blue umbrella decorated with ducks Isabel had needed after her old umbrella was turned inside out by a strong gust of wind. Others were downright ravishing. He gave her a beautiful crimson rose on their second date. Isabel was delighted to see such a perfect specimen of the flower, but the sparkling crystal bud vase that Gold gave the rose to her in stunned her speechless. It was real crystal, definitely real and expensive, because she knew he would never give anything fake.

"Close your eyes."

Isabel scrunched her face at him, but complied. She heard Gold shift in his chair, and a beat later he was behind her hands whispering against her skin as he clasped a necklace around her neck. Isabel opened her eyes, smiling from ear to ear, and touched the necklace. Her smile faltered at the feel of it, fingers recognizing the familiar shape from years of fingering. She touched her chin to her chest, raising the necklace into view, gasping. Her head snapped up to meet Gold's eyes.

"My mother's necklace." Isabel's eyes stung with tears. "How did you come to have it?"

Gold returned to the chair beside hers, grasping Isabel's hand. "Last year, your father came into my shop with this necklace. He was late on a payment and pawned it to pay the debt. It has resided in my office since then. I remembered being in possession of it, and realized it must have belonged to you."

Isabel's smile cracked into a laugh that sounded more like a sob. "I thought it fell off on the sidewalk or somewhere, and feared I'd never see it again. Thank you so much."

Mr. Gold caught her as Isabel threw her arms around his neck holding on as if to save her life. "It's the least I could do, love" he breathed in her hair, stroking her chestnut locks.

She pulled away, drabbing away the tears from the corners of her eyes. Isabel breathed in deep, joy mixed with sadness on her face. "My father pawned it?"

Mr. Gold nodded, despondently. "I'm sorry, love."

He drove her home earlier than usual. Isabel's relief of having her mother's necklace again was overshadowed now by the news of what her father did. She knew of the great debt Moe had dug them in to, but she didn't know how far deep they were and wasn't about to ask her significant other for the jagged pill she wished to avoid swallowing. Isabel dreaded seeing her father when she found him in the kitchen, knowing a storm was about to let loose.

"Izzy" he greeted with a faint smile as he finished pouring a tall glass of milk to go with the lengthy stack of Oreo cookies sitting on the counter. "How was your evening? It's good to see you going out more."

"Papa, we need to talk" she said, her voice steady and glum.

Moe closed the fridge after replacing the milk jug and turned to his daughter, his eyes immediately catching sight of the prodigal necklace. "Where'd you get that necklace?"

Isabel narrowed her eyes at him, pained by his tone. "From Mr. Gold's shop. You pawned it, remember?"

"Isabel-" he started, huffing her name. "I had no choice. Mr. Gold needed money right then and there or we would've been on the streets. The man has no mercy."

"That's not the point, papa!" Isabel yelled, her eyes flashing. "Don't blame Mr. Gold for this. My necklace was not yours to pawn. You should have come to me. Maybe I could have helped."

Moe shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. "No, I wasn't about to burden you with the debt."

"So, you thought stealing my necklace and making me think I lost it was better?" Isabel spat venom. Never in her life had she distrusted her father. He was a rock, a guiding hand that would never lead her astray. Now she wasn't so sure, and the thought sat like a sinking stone in her belly.

"Please understand-" Moe tried, but his composure was failing and he stared pleadingly at his only daughter. He reached a hand out to touch her arm, but Isabel recoiled.

"I can't be around you right now. I need to go."

"Isabel!" Moe called after her as Isabel turned tail and bolted out the backdoor.

Gold slipped on his silken pajamas shirt and bottoms, his thoughts on the woman he had spent the evening with. Isabel was always on his mind. From the moment he knew who he truly was, there she was on his mind, the past and present form of her. Lately, though, he mostly thought of her present self. Their time together was increasing by the weeks and he treasured every moment spent with his true love.

A banging from downstairs caught him off guard, and Gold immediately sought a handgun that was hid in his nightstand. He crept out the bedroom, gun raised in one hand, cane holding him steady in the other. More banging sounded through the house, and he finally realized someone was at the door.

When he stepped off the staircase landing, Gold slipped the gun into a table drawer in the foyer. He strode to the door as quick as he could, recognizing the silhouette through the glass, and flipped on the foyer light.

"Isabel?" he said concerned as he opened the front door. Her face was streaked with tears, but she seemed calm.

"Can I stay here tonight?" she asked huskily and her lips curling into a deep frown broke his heart.

"Of course, love." Gold pulled her through the entrance and gathered her in his arms as he guided her to the couch. "Is this about your father?" he asked, arranging her against him as they sat. He felt her nod silently against his chest. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

"No" she quickly answered. The despair in her voice broke his heart a second time, and he regretted giving her the necklace now. She nuzzled closer to him as if she wished to disappear into his embrace. "Just hold me."


	3. Chapter 3

Belle was thankful, once again, to have worn her sneakers to walk around town. Lochdubh was probably the same size as Storybrooke, but it was hilly where Storybrooke was flat and that would have been a trial to climb all the steep rolling sidewalks with heels on.

Everyone they came across was polite just as the day before, and some townsfolk even remembered her name. It was a couple hours into their walking rounds when the man Belle had met earlier at the police station – John, she recalled – came bounding up to them.

"Hamish!"

Her companion sighed loudly, jamming his hands in his pockets. "What is it, John?"

TV John glanced at Belle, tipping his head in acknowledgement then said to Hamish, "Rory is in quite a bind. We put together a party fer Esme's birthday today, but the finishing touches aren't ready and she's tugging him down ti the pub for lunch as we speak. Can ye stall them?"

Hamish's irritation at the sight of his friend seemed to melt away, and Belle wonder just what John had said to him that morning before they left. From how Hamish had spoken of John as they talked while making the rounds, he seemed to have a very close friendship with the man. "Where are they now?"

"They're just leaving Rory's shop. They hadn't met Miss Belle here yet, have they?" John asked, gesturing to her.

Hamish shook his head. "Looks like they are now." He turned to her. "Ye don't mind, do ye, Miss Belle?"

"Can we stay for the party?" Belle asked hinting with a grin.

TV John smiled warmly. "The more the merrier."

Hamish threw his friend a questioning look, but TV John didn't seem to notice as he thanked them, bounding off in the direction he had come. Hamish informed her that Rory's shop wasn't too far from where they were and they started off in that direction.

Belle squealed, clapping her hands excitedly, and Hamish snapped his gaze at her. "What?" he asked, obviously confused by her unexpected outburst.

"I'm going to attend a birthday party in a different country!"

"Oh? Was that one of the things on yer to-do list before ye come over?" Hamish joked wearing a sly smirk.

"Not really" Belle replied, pushing his shoulder playfully. "But it will be an experience I can add to my ever growing scrapbook of this adventure."

Belle was truly an easy person to get along with, Hamish thought as they quickened their pace up High Street. She seemed to enjoy just walking around the town with him, greeting the townsfolk and catching up on the latest antics of some. She talked to him as if she'd known him forever and not less than 24 hours prior. Now she was excited about stalling Esme, a woman she'd never met before, from arriving at her surprise birthday party too early.

They climbed a particularly steep hill of sidewalk and came face to face with Rory and Esme. Poor Rory Campbell looked quite flustered as he tried his best to coax Esme to take a scenic route to the pub. She just waved his pleads away as if he were a pesky fly. She did smile as she caught sight of Hamish and Belle approaching.

"Hello, Constable" Esme greeted, eyes flicking from him to Belle. "Who might this be?"

"Good day to ye, Esme. Rory." Hamish nodded at her then Rory, who looked more than relieved of the interruption. Hamish gestured to his companion. "This is Miss Belle. She's staying in Lochdubh for the day. Came all the way from America."

As Esme struck up a conversation with Belle, Rory leaned into Hamish and said, "Did TV John catch you?"

"Aye" Hamish replied, jamming hands into his jacket pockets. "We'll walk with ye there. It seems Esme is quite intrigued to speak with Miss Belle."

The group slowly strolled down High Street until they came to Stag Bar. If TV John hadn't finished with the preparations by now then what he did would have to do. Hamish knew Esme would like it no matter if everyone just popped out of the booths and yelled "Surprise". He grabbed Belle's waist, halting her from going in as he gestured for Rory to take Esme in first.

The instant they walked in a roar of "Surprise" echoed through the place and Esme jumped into Rory's arms before a huge, satisfied smile spread across her face and she ran around hugging everyone.

The party went into full gear with mugs flying into hands and confetti being tossed and a local band playing in the back of the pub. Hamish, with a hand still on her waist, escorted Belle to a booth in the corner. She was practically beaming with excitement as her deep blue eyes took in the party revelry.

After a while, some folks pulled the tables back and started dancing. Lachlan traipsed over, a bit tipsy, and asked for Belle to dance. She smiled brightly, taking his hand, and Hamish watched as they did a clumsy waltz, ever so often bumping into the other folks on the dance floor.

It seemed too good to be true. Belle fit in like she belonged, and Hamish wondered if her hometown in the States was anything like Lochdubh. The more time he spent with her, the more curious he became with who she was and where she'd come from. There was a place in the highland that he wanted to take her, to show her the town as a whole. It would be a perfect and quiet place to talk to her about things like her hometown and her family.

"Having a good time?" he asked as Belle made her way back from the dance floor.

She laughed and tried to catch her breath at the same time as she plopped back onto the bench. "Yes" she answered, taking a gulp from her mug. "This is the best birthday party I've ever been to."

Hamish pulled a face. "Really?"

"No one was ever this animated in my town," Belle admitted a little too stiffly, and that piqued Hamish's curiosity even more.

He leaned into the table and Belle followed suit. "Would you like to see Lochdubh from the highland?"

Belle cocked her head, looking thoughtful. "How's the sunset up there?"

Hamish couldn't help but smile at the question. "Indescribable."

"Then let's go." Belle stood, holding out her hand to him and Hamish grasped it gladly.


	4. Chapter 4

"How much family do ye have back in Storybrooke?"

Belle glanced at Hamish as they trekked along the road up to the highlands. Hamish had suggested taking his truck, but they weren't going too far up and she didn't want to miss a bit of scenery. It was too beautiful to see through a truck window.

"All my family is there" she answered, pausing as images of her loved ones flashed before her mind's eyes. It'd been weeks since she'd seen them in person. "My step-son, Neal, and his wife, Emma."

"Is yer step-son the only child between you and yer husband?"

"He is." Belle smiled, remembering the first time she met Neal. She'd always pictured Neal as the boy Rum had described to her, so meeting a full-grown man took some getting used to. "He's actually a few years older than me. Even if he won't admit it, Neal is a lot like his father."

Hamish glanced sidelong at her. "You married an older man then?" he asked, but as soon as the question came out, he made a rueful face. "I apologize, Miss Belle. I'm interrogating you again."

Belle laughed softly as she stopped, placing a hand on Hamish's shoulder. "I don't mind, Hamish. You're just getting to know me, right? There's nothing wrong with that."

"Anything ye don' want ti answer, ye don' have to" he assured her with the most honest brown eyes she'd ever seen.

"Well, as long as you don't ask what my bra size is" Belle remarked smoothly, earning a low chuckle from her companion as they started up the road again. "Yes, Rum was a good many years older than me, but from the moment we met, it never deterred me. He was so broken and in need of someone in his corner, but so intriguing and delightful and when he loved you, he loved like nothing in this world."

Hamish hung his head a little. "Sounds like a good man. He must have loved you very much."

Belle nodded, a little sadly. She hadn't expected to talk about these things to anyone outside of the family, but Hamish had earned her privacy in just a day's time. She shrugged, her voice slightly saturated. "Like no other."

Hamish could have kicked himself in that moment. He wanted to know about Belle's life, but he knew by her voice he'd dug too deeply. She was a widow, probably not even one for an entire year, and he was dredging up all the sadness and grief this poor woman had been through. He wanted Belle to like him, to maybe even take an interest in him, but he also didn't want to take advantage of her.

"Any more family?" he quickly diverted the subject back to what he hoped was a happier topic.

Belle's face broke out into a shining smile, and Hamish was glad to see the sun return. "I have a step-grandson, Henry. He's actually the one who convinced me to go on this adventure. I can't believe he graduates high school this year."

"I'm glad he convinced ye ti come here to Scotland" Hamish said a little boldly.

Belle staggered a step, lightly bumping her shoulder into his. "Me too."

A slant of a smile spread on Hamish's lips at Belle's playful touch. He hoped he wasn't getting the wrong impression. She seemed to like him and maybe she did want something more than just a companion. He had to keep her in Lochdubh a little longer. Belle wasn't worried about her car or in a hurry to go anywhere, so he'd take his chances at asking her to stay.

The walk to the highland overlooking the town took longer than it should have, but neither of them noticed. By the time they made it up there, the sun was sinking lower in the sky.

"This is beautiful," Belle gasped, taking in the sight of the valley below, the green mountains behind, the calm of the seashore.

"Aye" Hamish agreed, though he wasn't looking anywhere below, his eyes fixed on the wonder on Belle's face. "It is."

They settled down in the soft grass: Belle's legs tucked under her skirt, Hamish leaning back on both heels of his hands. This was better than taking a vacation, he mused as they sat there watching the sun sink behind the mountains. Who needs to go anywhere when you could hold the company of a lovely stranger-turned-companion who finds your home captivating?

"Time ti go back" Hamish announced as the sun's light grew fainter behind the mountain.

"I didn't think about having to walk back in the dark" Belle said sheepishly, her cheeks flaming as Hamish helped her to up.

"Always come prepared" he replied, pulling a torch out of his shoulder bag.

It surprised – and pleased –Hamish when Belle wrapped an arm around his, her body so close he could feel her warmth. She did say he made her feel safe, and he tried to convince himself that's the only reason she had her arm around his as they started down the highland in the fading evening.

They'd walked halfway down the road before a truck passed on the road and it stopped, letting them hitch a ride on the tailgate the rest of the way to town. Hamish offered to cook supper, but Belle captured his heart further when she suggested they eat bowls of cereal instead.

After Belle had changed into her flannel pajamas and Hamish shed down to his undershirt, they curled up on the couch, bowls of cereal in hand, a black and white Western playing on the small tv. Hamish couldn't help but imagine that this could be their life together, and it spurred him to ask the question that had dangled on the tip of his tongue for most of the day.

"Miss Belle," he began, but Belle raised a hand for him to stop.

"Just Belle, P.C. MacBeth" she corrected, eyes shining.

"Belle" he emphasized, giving a lopsided grin. "Will ye stay for a few more days?"

Belle's body went rigid. Hamish was asking her to stay. The question had totally caught her off guard, and she stared at him, his brown eyes staring right back into hers. Those eyes resembled her husband's perfectly but in truth, were nothing like Rum's.

There was always a shadow behind Rum's eyes, the weight of centuries of lose and guilt. No matter how happy they were together, that shadow always loomed behind his eyes. But Hamish's were young and shining and held a hope that Rum could never grasp. Both were beautiful in their own unique way.

She breathed in deep - centering herself as she made up her mind - a smile breaking out across her face. "I would. As long as I'm not distracting you from your work."

"Yer not" he reassured heartily, leaning in.

Belle's heart bolted into a run as she realized just how close Hamish was to her. He planned to kiss her, it was written all over his face, and Belle swallowed hard as she closed the gap between them.

Belle's first thought as Hamish tentatively explored her lips was that she had missed being kissed more than she had realized. As the kiss deepened, Hamish's hand cupped her cheek, fingertips tickling her skin. She sighed into his mouth, taking in every touch, the feel of his lips upon hers.

They broke apart but only by a fraction. Hamish's warm breath huffed upon her skin sending pleasant little shivers down her body. Belle knew where this could lead, and her uncertainty outweighed the need to just let go.

"I don't know if I'm ready for what could come of this tonight" Belle said gently.

Hamish searched her face, understanding and resolve in his eyes. Belle nibbled her bottom lip as they gazed at each other, and sighed again when Hamish pressed a chaste kiss to her lips before saying, "It's okay, Belle. I won't push."

"I'm sorry."

Hamish grasped her hand, his thumb rubbing absently against her skin. "Ye didn' come on a pilgrimage to your late husband's homeland for this."

"I didn't," Belle agreed, but that didn't mean she couldn't be surprised by what she found along the way, "Maybe I can give it a chance. You make me feel safe, Hamish, and I haven't felt that since my husband."

"Stay with me tonight?" Hamish asked, bring her hand up to place a sweet kiss upon her knuckles, his brown eyes hopeful - and really, how could she resist him? "I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman."

Belle laughed softly, feeling a flutter in her stomach that hadn't been there in quite a while. "I'd like that."


End file.
